Logs:Consequences (2)
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| RL Date: 1 January, 2012 |
| Who: Ali, Esten, Yamilet |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Fortians discuss the consequences of Boll's ejection of Fort Weyr from their lands. |
| When: Day 25, Month 8, Turn 27 (Interval 10) |
| It's been a few days since the Gather, and 'the incident' at Southern Boll, though the rumors are flying. Even as she's headed for the infimary with her basket, she's been stopped - by weyrfolk and healers alike - seeking more information, but the junior just murmurs something about, ask the Weyrleaders, and keeps going. Despite the heat she's still wearing her normal pants-and-shirt, the dress of the gather long since packed away. As time progresses and still Yamilet has yet to leave the infirmary, Ivwynoth has become more and more of a nuisance out in the Bowl. First, it was cute and harmless tricks, like leaping out at unsuspecting passerbys. Then as Yamilet became more and more restless, so did Ivwynoth. The herds have never been more terrorized (despite numerous scolding visits from the herders), the lake more splashed in, and everything moveable ... more... moved around. Yamilet is sitting in a chair, a single crutch in the hand of her good arm tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tapping relentlessly against the floor while her bad arm feeds cookies into her mouth. Someone is bored beyond belief. Can one blame her? All around her healers go about their business attending to other patients while their near-permanent resident watches Ivwynoth scamper within sight, a brightly coloured patched quilt dangling from her mouth. "That's beautiful," Yamilet croons to her green lifemate, letting her voice drop then: "Now take it back to whoever's weyr you stole that from." A pause for cookie-eating. "No. It doesn't matter that you know Isyath wouldn't mind if you were there, if she isn't home you can't go in her weyr on your way back. I know you're bored, love, but can't you just chase vtols for another hour, or try to hug your own shadow again?" "...does she really try that?" Ali's voice comes from behind Yamilet, amused and surprised both. Her gaze flickers from Ivwynoth to the cookies, and something wry creeps across her expression, as she touches the basket she's carrying. "I think you need to eat those cookies faster. I'm baking more than you're eating." The junior tugs a chair close to Yamilet's and settles down into it, exhaling a sigh. "I really wish they'd let you come to the Gather. You would've loved all the color. Of course, it didn't end so well for us, but there was drinks! And dancing! And a mysterious bandit who wanted to dance with me. And a girl." And there's a flush from the dark-haired Fortian, at that, too. "...you would've loved it." Isyath, too, is bored, but not as confined: she sweeps through the skies above, her mental joy audible throughout the Weyr, taunting others to come and fly with her, as is her usual want on such a hot summer day where the thermals rise. Yamilet smiles and twists towards the familiar voice, mouth full of cookie when she greets, "Ali!" Her smile thickens to match the young weyrwoman's expression, and she turns back to the gaping opening of the draconic side of the infirmary, where Ivwynoth is squeaking happily at their visitor. "You would try to hug your shadow if you were stuck here as long as we have been," is her reply. Yamilet waves her hand at her restless green. "Go on, join Isyath, but /stay out of trouble/." Ivwynoth is off before the words are even out of Yamilet's mouth, bolting skywards by the end of the last syllable. "It would've just been torture anyway," Yamilet tries to convince herself, "It's not like I can dance or anything." Then, her eyes alight with intrigue. "A mysterious bandit?" Her brow bows. "Wait. I don't understand. A girl? Why would I have loved that? I love boys, silly." Her hand reaches for the basket, regardless of the little pile of cookies still left in her lap. "Although if you keep baking me cookies I might make an exception," she sing-songs brightly. "So... when /can/ we bust you out of here, then?" Ali asks. This was not talk she entertained while She Who Shall Not Be Named was here. In fact, the junior looks more relaxed than Yami's seen in a long time, certainly since Bea was here. The basket is set beside her chair, and her smile of greeting for her clutchmate's dragon is brilliant, eyes linger on Ivwynoth until she departs. "No, well-" she looks uncomfortable, a moment, "-the girl part was kind of, unexpected. I didn't enjoy that at all," she confesses, in a low voice. "She actually-!" Ali bites back whatever she was going to say, her flush, perhaps, saying it all. "Anyway. I'm just saying it was fun. Maybe, when the tithe trains come, we can have a mini gather here. Although I'd hope you'd be out before then." "Probably not for some time yet." Meaning the jail.. infirmary break. "But, I'm not training with the human healers - as it were." It's only the first question that Esten betrays any knowledge of the rest of Ali's words as he makes his way into the infirmary. As opposed to staying near the entrance, debating joining or not. "You do look better, given the extent of the injuries." Which he can only but hear while being in here most of the time. Instead of continuing that track of thought, he glances between the two and asks, "Am I interrupting? If so, I can go and find something else to do on the other side of the room." Yamilet shrugs her good shoulder, though whether that's because of pain in her bad shoulder or just force of habit isn't clear on her face. In any case, she seems perfectly normal but for her drearily unkempt hair and cookie-crumbled pyjamas that are brushed as best as possible at the sound of Esten's voice. "I look terrible," Yamilet corrects, smiling all the more in that way that women smile when a man is nearby. "They have me up on my feet and moving around at least but it's the shoulder that slows me down more than the hip. If it'd been my other shoulder broken I'd be all over the Weyr by now." Her smile is turned to Ali, where it brightens with the glimmer of feigned excitement. "Tomorrow we're doing /stairs/." Yaaaaay. "Come, have cookies," she tells Esten. "And get a chair." Her elbow moves to nudge the goldrider. "You /will/ tell me more about this girl later though." Her hair is thrown over her shoulder as her head swivels towards the scribe-cum-dragonhealer. "Did you go to the Gather too?" There's a slight wince, and a definitely-guilty look from Ali as she peers around at Esten. Thoroughly busted, there's a flush to her countenance. "Of course- I meant when the healers release her," she says, lamely, and obviously lying. And then, leaping on the distraction Esten provides, quickly waves him over to join them, "Oh, no. Please do. You can help Yami work her way through my cookies," she says, gesturing towards the basket that rests between them. "I'm sure she won't mind." She glances sidelong at the greenrider for confirmation. She can't even fake enthusiasm for the whole 'stairs' thing, so instead says, "Why don't you convince them to do a ramp, instead? You could spend the day in my weyr - we can do your hair, or... something." Ali is vague on what girl stuff constitutes, not necessarily because of Esten's presence, so much that she's mostly unsure herself. And yeah, that's a definitely fluster at the elbow-and-reminder Yamilet gives her. "I did." Spoken first to Yamilet as he steps further into the room, the chair is next to be captured on his way towards the pair with a smile quickly flashed to Ali before clarifying, "And I'm a dragonhealer trainee. It's not like I can or have too much say with the rider aspect of the equation." Whether or not that's entirely true, he and the chair are set within the space where both green and gold rider sit. "As for the Gather, I was accosted by this young woman who had ribbons for her mask. Curious about the Lord Holder and the entire situation, which I have a much better understanding of now." Weyrs. News travel faster than Thread. "Just don't eat them all on me," Yamilet playfully warns. "Otherwise how will I bribe the healers?" On the subject of stairs and ramps, the greenrider in her pyjamas gives a light laugh and instinctively runs a hand over her hair in such a way that is entirely ineffectual. Thankfully, she'll remain oblivious to her condition for a little longer, being without any nearby mirrors. "The sooner I do stairs, the sooner they give me the ok," she points out. A hand is lifted and smacked on her knee. "But enough about me - yes! This business about the Lord Boll and arrests and /chaos/? I heard Hattie threw a punch." Her head cants to the side, eyes scanning the infirmary ceiling in thought. "Or maybe I dreamed that up. I dream a lot of things. I dreamed Ivwynoth laid an egg the other night. It hatched a vtol - which isn't surprising if you knew how many she's eaten since summer started..." Ali gets a smirk. "Did your 'girl' have ribbons and accost you too? Maybe it was a theme. Masked accosting." Ali bites her lower lip at the reminder of the less-positive aspect of the gather. But it's soon overshadowed by, "You met a girl? Do you know who she is?" she asks, curiously. "I- I didn't see you there, or I would've asked for a dance," she says to Esten, kind of apologetically. "The whole mask thing was good - and bad - both!" Her mouth opens and shuts at Yamilet's sharing of her dreams, not to mention the question that follows, earning a distinct flush. "I was mortified!" she whispers, leaning forward. "Thank Faranth I don't know who she is. Or she, me." And /now/, the discussion of Lord Boll is a bit more welcome, if only in defense, "She didn't punch anyone! She's pregnant!" as if that precludes her from punching anyone. And there might even be a note of jealousy audible in there, too. "I didn't hear all of it, but apparently the Lord Boll had previously asked that storeskeeper, you know, Avaryk? To leave. And he wasn't happy at finding him there again. And next thing you know, he's saying /all of Fort/ have to leave. And the Weyrwoman-" she bites her lower lip, uncomfortable about finishing that sentence, even if the rumors might be loudly proclaiming that they'll be no tithes this Turn. "Somewhat." Glibly revealing that hint, Esten folds both arms along the back of the chair as he makes himself comfortable while sitting easily enough. "She tied one of her ribbons about my wrist, but that's all I know about her. It's all a hazard when everyone's identity is masked like that. I doubt that she knows who I am or where. Nevermind that I did excuse myself when all the riders were told to leave, which might give her some hints. Unintentionally. As for the entire problem..." Much safer. Though wait. One part of that, he didn't know. About the Weyrwoman. Instead, he does remark to Ali, "I would have offered a dance, if I had known what you dressed up as. The problems with Boll though, he seems rather stubborn. Not, that I know the entire story there but it seems like there's been tension there for awhile. Far longer than since I've been here." Yamilet makes the appropriate gleeful cawing at Ali's admittance, as vague an admittance as it may be. "You /were/ accosted! Aw, how nice!" Obviously Yamilet does not share her friend's sentiment on strangers groping. She glances from Ali to Esten and back, smile returning slyly. "Maybe /Ali/ was that woman with the ribbons who accosted you. Wouldn't that be something!" Pot-stirrer, she is! She then plays the part of a woman appalled, ignorant of the hint of jealousy in Ali's voice. "And why can't a pregnant woman punch a person? I thought they can do anything they like?" Curiosity piqued, Yamilet slides her questioning attention back and forth. "So this whole thing is the Storeskeeper's fault? And the Weyrwoman what?" See that edge of her seat? She'd be on it if she didn't have cookies in her lap. "I always miss the best things." "He- he never much liked how closely his father worked with us, I think." Ali speaks quietly, and perhaps even a little hesitantly, reluctant as always to speak any ill of Blood. "His grandson, Einrhi, was with us for a while, but he took him back to Boll with him after his father passed." The junior flushes a bright shade of red at Yamilet's sly comments, not to mention her glee at the goldrider having been accosted. Very pointedly, she keeps the subject on the matter at hand, though she drops her voice to something very faint, "She- I think the Weyrwoman threatened to with draw Fort's protection from them." The very idea makes her react with horror, nevermind they're in an Interval. That sort of thing is not done in Ali's mind. Stirring pots and so blatantly so, Esten can't help but to smile amusedly at this line of the conversation as his shoulders lift and fall dismissively, "Finding out why he has that issue with Fort might be a first step. There has to be a reason for a person to have such a view when other family members clearly don't. While this is an Interval, I'd be more worried for what this might do to the other Holds. Will they follow suit? What about the Weyrs? How would we get supplies to the Weyr if this does happen?" Nevermind that it's not his problem, yet his mind does consider the situation per his earlier experience and learning. Yamilet leans in for Ali's explanation. "Withdraw? Faranth," she exclaims quietly and flops back, sure to brace the brunt of the gentle force with her good side. "It must've been for good reason. Hattie wouldn't do anything if it weren't for a good reason," Yamilet decides, her blind faith unwaivering. A cookie becomes prey to her fingers, and she politely waits until she's swallowed it before continuing. "But she /didn't/ withdraw protection, right? She just threatened it, right? We don't have to worry about getting supplies because she hasn't pulled protection... /right?/" Another cookie stays suspended in the air with bated breath. "I think we have to- to make things right," Ali says, reluctantly, nodding in agreement with Esten's words. "The only thing they /need/ from us during an interval is the occasional transport or something. And if he was smart, he could petition other Weyrs for that. Offer them payment." The idea of other Holds following suit, however, widens the junior's eyes in horror. "They wouldn't!" she says, quickly. But then the idea sinks in and she starts to look ill. As for Yamilet's question, "...I really don't know. I guess, maybe, it depends on their next meeting?" "They may not." Serious enough, Esten isn't immune to reactions as he lifts one hand to wave off his earlier comment. "It's just that holders watch the other areas, even if you think they're focused on their own matters. I'm just not sure what we have to make right in this situation. Rather, it seems to be a matter of perception. Still, it's never good for a Weyr and Hold to be at odds like this. Thank Faranth that we don't have the complication of Thread right now." Yamilet nibbles her cookie to death and wipes all the evidence off her pyjamas. "If Lord Boll hates us /that/ much - or we hate him that much, or however the grain goes in this mess, I don't know how any of it will be mended. Maybe Esten's got a point," she admits. "Maybe we'll all have to change, Weyrs, Holds, and Halls. Maybe we'll all have to become farmers." Which is meant to be funny, and is accompanied by a laugh at the thought. With that, Yamilet grabs her crutch in her bad hand. "Excuse me, I'll be back," is murmured before she heaves herself up with her good arm and makes sure she's steady on her feet before trading the crutch to her good arm and hobbling towards the latrines. It's the dragonhealer's words that prompt the memory, and Ali straightens. "It /did/ happen," she says. "During Thread, I mean. I was reading in the records - it happened at High Reaches Weyr. Crom tried to defect to Telgar. There's... there's precedent there." Distinctly unnerved now, she fiddles with her clothing as a sign of her nerves. Wide eyes follow after Yamilet, as she mouths 'farmers', kind of incredulously. "She's joking, right?" she turns her gaze to Esten, as if he might somehow know better. It just doesn't get any better. Exhaling as Yamilet leaves, the joke and its attempt isn't lost on him as he lifts one hand to his chin, propping his entire head in the process. "She's kidding. But, since there's precedent... maybe we shouldn't borrow trouble. For now, it seems like Lord Boll is annoyed. We need to find out why. Though, that makes me wonder about what my mysterious companion meant." Without waiting for the question that he thinks would come, he continues, "She said that I might be of use there." After the greenrider leaves, Ali, by habit, put the lid down on the basket, brushing some crumbs off the abandoned chair, an absent habit she is entirely unaware of. "I'm- just not sure how. Maybe I should... ask if Einrhi will meet? Somewhere outside Boll, so we don't anger his father." Her head tips, and she looks at Esten inquisitively, like he's done something new all of a sudden. "Really? How? Are you related to the family?" She straightens, and there's a sincere amount of hope in her expressive gaze. "Hardly. My father is a Harper. So are most of my siblings," Esten explains, stating a fact that doesn't cause him any measure discomfort for once. The cookies and their displacement don't seem to bother the dragonhealer in training as he glances towards the bowl and then back to Ali. "I had the chance once." But he didn't don the harper blue goes unspoken. "Your guess is as good as mine, I'd suspect." "I- I'd forgotten," Ali confesses. She chews her lower lip, thinking. "Maybe- maybe you could have your father reach out to the Harpers at Boll. Get a sense of the Lord Holder's thinking? That would help us figure out how we can fix things." She doesn't pursue the question of why Esten didn't follow in his father's footsteps, not now, anyway. "Or if he could arrange for a meeting, you, and me, with one of the Boll Harpers? That would be even better. And it wouldn't be... official, that way." Esten replies, "I don't think I mentioned it before. But, I would think that the moment that you add a Harper it becomes official. In a way, if only because it will get back to the Hall. The less formal it is, the less likely we'll have any type of backlash. I don't want to cross the Weyrleaders in this, since it would limit where I could go after this." A poor attempt at humor, it comes and goes rather quickly. "We need to know what he's thinking. Wouldn't it be better for me to go? Not that I have any idea as to how to come to his attention to strike up that kind of conversation." Ali chews her lower lip, looking like she's considering Esten's words - at least up until his final statement. There, she straightens, eyes wide, shaking her head: "That's what got us in trouble in the first place. One of ours sneaking into Boll. I guess it doesn't matter now what the reasons were - he shouldn't have been there under false pretenses- we, we should've told him the truth." At least, that's her take on things, and not one she's voiced at all in public until now. She leans forward, half stretching out a hand as if to emphasize her words, her gaze on Esten, "I'm not sure it's a great idea to do it again. You saw- you saw the Lord's face? I don't think he'd let anyone he caught go, next time, no matter what they claimed. Please- don't even suggest that." Oh. Esten may as well speak those words. That word as it becomes clear as to what spurred this situation in the first place. "Do you think that he wouldn't have offered support if he had known the truth," he asks, inadvertently trying to analyze the problem much like he would approach something as a dragon's issue. Only, this isn't a dragon. "I won't go." Not so much as relenting, it's a statement that he makes a matter of fact as he regards Ali and her gesture. "Even if I'm not doing anything wrong but why sneak into Boll? Has he cut off the borders entirely in the past?" "I-" and here's where Ali hesitates, not because she's not sure what to say, but more that she's not sure how to say it diplomatically. She settles for, "I don't know. The Weyrwoman didn't- talk to me about it at all. I didn't even know until well after it happened. I think... he may have, if he'd known about- about- Bea," somehow she manages to infuse the ex-dragonrider's name with an impressive amount of fear and dislike. "But it also might've made our relationship worse." She looks fairly uncertain, though. "No," she says, looking shocked at his suggestion of closing the borders, "Never. And I don't think- I don't think he meant it as a permanent thing. He wanted to punish us by removing us from the Gather. But now-" now it's so much more than that. "I don't think anyone quite knows what they meant." They - the Weyrwoman and the Lord Boll both. "It's over now. Meaning the matter of Bea. But it doesn't do much now, I admit," Esten notes with the hand falling and his arms reclaiming their earlier fold against the chair's back. "Tempers can cause a lot of misunderstandings. Maybe that's the issue and hopefully it doesn't progress further than from here. In the meantime, what costume did you choose?" "Temper and... maybe pride," Ali says, by way of agreement with Esten. "But... well. Maybe we could just, I don't know. Go visit your father, at the Hall, and if we happen to pick up some rumors...?" she half suggests, with a smile. "Me? Oh- it was feathers. Feathered mask, I mean. I liked the colors, although I'm not the best at choosing the right outfit." As probably evidenced by pants-and-shirt that are probably much more uncomfortable than anything in this weather. "Don't say I didn't warn you," Esten quips with the edges of his lips twitching ever so higher as he leans back before swinging one leg over the chair he's sat on thusly. "My father will know what we're asking about and maybe why before we leave. But, better him than the alternative." His siblings. "In the meantime, it was a shame that I didn't get to dance with you at the Gather. I didn't think you'd go for the feathered look. It worked to keep most of us guessing and failing to find you there." The dark-haired junior looks a little wry, rather unsurprised at Esten's warning. "Harpers are good at knowing what you want even before you know what you want." Which is probably why she tends to avoid them, by and large. "Maybe we could go tomorrow, if you haven't anything on?" she suggests, blithely. And then there's a brief pause, surprise flickering across her features. "I- I didn't think you would be looking for me," she says, tugging hand through her hair for a moment, before she goes on, "Well, I'm sure there'll be another opportunity soon enough. Maybe even at the harper hall. I love dancing," she says, eyes shining with enthusiasm. "Although Gather dancing is even better, it's more fun when no one knows or cares who you are." "I see." Perhaps, Esten does as he lifts the back of the chair with one hand and the other lifting to his waist for the most slightest of bows. "Let's go tomorrow and my father would be amendable to us meeting him. I can likely make time and there's nothing serious walking into the infirmary that I'm not already aware of." The idea of a ball at the Harper Hall is met with a lessening smile as he remarks, "Maybe Fort will have one before the Harpers do. But, I better find someone who can carry a message to the Hall. While a surprise would be good enough, I want him to know we're on our way." "Oh! Yes, you definitely should give him warning. I wouldn't want to surprise a Harper," Ali says, smiling at him. "I should check on Yami, make sure she puts these cookies somewhere safe. Shall we say - lunchtime? Come across to Issy's ledge? You know the way, now," she adds, with ease. |
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